


My Husband. My King.

by Sotakura



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Damen, Breeding, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time Topping, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, I don't know what else to tag I'm so tired rn, M/M, Married Couple, Mentions of Past Torture, Multiple Orgasms, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Kings Rising, bottom!damen, pure sin tho for real, they're so in love it's actually gross and adorable, y'all know what scene I'm talking about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7809208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sotakura/pseuds/Sotakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I had a thought – an idea for what I'd like to do tonight. It's – I have ... I've been thinking of it for quite some time actually.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Damen proposes an idea for their first night together as husbands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Husband. My King.

**Author's Note:**

> I simply cannot write a drabble and this is needlessly lengthy. My deepest apologies (/~\ ) I feel like I've literally been writing this for weeks, if not months and I am so freaking happy to have finished it! I actually went through and edited this one before posting it, but this did happen at like 2am, so if there are any glaring mistakes please let me know and I'll fix it right up! Enjoy! ;)

As they ventured further into the palace, hallways flickering with a glow of burning torches, the boisterous sounds of the festivities slowly faded. The walk back to their chambers was quiet, nothing more than their unhurried footsteps on the stones echoing off of the walls. It was a welcome change from the noise of the loud, drunken guests they had just left behind. Laurent leaned into Damen's side, his hand curled around the bend of Damen's elbow and a small, shy smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Damen could practically feel his chest swelling with happiness, the feeling so consuming and uncontrollable he needed to bite at his lower lip to stop himself from grinning like a fool.

Damen sent away the single guard that stood by the door to their rooms as soon as they arrived, ordering him to go enjoy what was left of the party, before following Laurent through the arch of the doorway. Laurent had perched himself against the edge of the large table in the centre of the room as Damen bolted the door behind him, crossing his legs at the ankles and taking up a goblet that he had filled from the pitcher.

Damen watched him for a moment. He let his eyes wander from the strands of soft golden hair atop Laurent's head, down along the curve of his neck which was deliciously exposed against the white of his chiton. He followed the line of his chest, down his slightly tapered waist, to the hem of his clothing which was short enough to reveal the pale of his thighs. One moment passed into several more until finally, Laurent cleared his throat, forcing Damen's attentions to his face. Laurent was hiding a smirk behind the lip of his goblet.

“I thought you were seconds away from attacking the council back there,” Laurent said, his voice lilting in ill-hidden amusement. “What a exciting conclusion to our wedding that would have been.” Damen shook his head, a huff of a laugh escaping his lips as he pushed away from the door and stepped closer to Laurent. “Perhaps I shouldn't have pulled you away when I did. After all, everyone loves dinner _and_ a show.”

“Encouraging a brawl with our advisors?” He arched an eyebrow and reached out to take the goblet from Laurent's fingers, making a show of sniffing the liquid it contained before setting it back down on the table. “Have you been at the griva?”

“No. The _council_ have been at the griva, which is the very reason they are not currently breaking our door down, demanding they play audience to this night,” Damen huffed and finally moved to lay his hands on Laurent's hips, his eyebrows furrowing in memory of the anger he'd felt earlier that night. “All my doing of course.” Laurent said, pressing forward into the welcome warmth of Damen's body, his hands finding a place on Damen's bare upper arms.

“I'm not surprised dear husband, that's just you being as cunning and genius as always.” Any remnants of anger that filtered through Damen dissipated at the feeling of Laurent's hands on his skin. They were close enough for their breaths to mingle, chests mere inches apart.

“They'll have the very same argument for you after the ceremony at Arles. I don't think even Makedon's griva will tempt them twice.” Laurent's fingertips trailed upwards, closer to Damen's shoulder where a golden pin held his chiton and the rich, crimson cloak in place. He traced the image of the lion's head with his index finger as Damen slid his hands around to Laurent's lower back, pulling him closer until they were pressed tightly together in an embrace.

“I will barricade the doors,” said Damen. Laurent smiled then, a soft whisper of a laugh passing from his lips. He brought his forehead to rest against Damen's.

“Perhaps the windows too. Just in case.”

“We'll send word ahead to the city, have them boarded for our arrival.” Damen's words became muffled under the press of Laurent's lips. A groan rumbled at the back of his throat as Laurent's mouth opened for him easily, seeking out the familiar warmth of Damen's tongue that now tasted faintly of sweet fruits and wine.

They kissed for long minutes, slow and easy, taking the time to savour every second like they never had before. But the thrum of desperation was there, in the harsh bite of fingernails, the pull of strong hands that arched Laurent further into Damen's body. It sparked over their skin; electric, and with that sharp pang of _need_ that asked for more, more, _more._

More kisses, more touches, more skin against skin. More of anything, of _everything_.

Damen reluctantly pulled away first, his lungs on fire, and Laurent looked up at him, eyes slightly dazed but bright. “I don't want any one else to see _this._ I don't want them looking at you. Don't ever want them to see how you look under my touch.” Laurent flushed a pretty pink colour, one that coated not only his cheeks, but spread along his neck to tint the very top of his chest. For a while, there was silence between them, Laurent's gaze slipping to the side. Damen could see that look in his eyes. He was thinking, lost in his head and wading through thoughts. Finally, Laurent looked back, silently determined and mouth pursed as he worked around the words he wanted to say.

“I'm _happy_ ,” Laurent said, voice just a murmur of a sound; quiet, as though it was a secret that he'd let pass between them. “I'm happy that you're … here. That you _want_ to be here.” Laurent's eyebrows furrowed and his eyes once again flickered away from Damen's, but only for a second. His fingers were at the back of Damen's neck, stroking at the warm skin and the fine hair there. I'm happy that … that you want to protect me. I feel-” Laurent sighed and his fingers tightened their hold briefly. “-safe. I feel safe with you, Damen, and I haven't felt safe anywhere, or with anyone in such a long time.”

It was hard for Damen to breathe in that moment, with the weight of Laurent's words squeezing at his chest. But it was easy to reach out and pull Laurent into him, to bury his nose and his smile into the space beneath Laurent's ear where he could feel the excited thrum of his lover's heartbeat. It took a while for Laurent to go lax, and slump into Damen's body but he eventually did, with a shaky, relieved sigh.

“I'm supposed to be the eloquent one,” Laurent said, breath tickling the side of Damen's neck. “My words are my most powerful weapon, they are my everything and you- … you make me feel like one of the blushing servant girls, when they accidentally meet your eyes and you smile at them. I can't speak with you. _I can't think_.”

“You seem to be speaking just fine.” Damen laughed.

“No, I'm babbling. Make me stop; my mouth is dangerous when it's unoccupied.”

Damen easily captured Laurent's lips in a kiss. One that, with little coaxing, soon turned almost desperate and needy. A deep guttural sound rumbled from Damen's throat as Laurent teased his mouth, nipping at his lower lip before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue. One step backwards had Laurent backed up against the edge of the table, arched just slightly over its wooden surface. The line of Damen's body was hard and unyielding against him. Thighs pressed to thighs, chest to chest, hands and fingers raking over too little exposed skin, and Laurent did nothing more that hold Damen tighter and let a slue of soft moans get lost against Damen's lips.

Laurent's breath was coming in ragged little pants as Damen began to trail his kisses along his husband's cheek, and then further, until he was suckling at the skin of Laurent's neck. “Damen,” Laurent began, and he tried his very best to keep his voice calm and level. “Should you not be taking me to bed? Or-” Damen felt Laurent's fingers at his hips then, gripping at the cloth there and pressing harshly into the skin beneath. “-Or would you prefer I simply lie back and spread for you right here across the table?”

Damen's breath hitched around a gasp, his whole body jolting at the words that raked a shock of arousal straight through him. He abandoned the sweet of Laurent's neck and pulled back to look at Laurent's face; skin newly flushed a shade of pink and eyes blown black. It was no longer too rare a sight for Damen – to see his beloved Laurent no more afraid nor ashamed to show his pleasure and arousal so blatantly on his face. But Damen would never stop being choked breathless at the sight of it.

He lifted his hands to cup Laurent's face, sweeping his thumbs over the heated skin of his cheeks. Laurent shivered almost imperceptibly at the tenderness of Damen's touch, but recovered, choosing to continue with his previous thought. “I'm not entirely opposed to the idea. I'm sure you could get me to concede. You could probably even convince me that my aching back tomorrow will be worth it. And I _will_ ache tomorrow. Although it is a finely crafted table, I don't believe a bout of vigorous fucking was in mind for its purpose.”

“ _Laurent.”_ Damen cut him off, voice deep and laden with a strange mix of amusement and seriousness. Laurent's brows dipped at the sound of it.

“What is it?” Laurent asked, with ill-hidden trepidation. He knew Damen was well versed in Laurent's vulgarities but he would always fear a moment when he would somehow take it too far. When something passed from his lips that made Damen recoil. “Why are you making that face?” His voice was a strained sort of steady and Damen could see something akin to fear in Laurent's eyes. He smiled, a little thing that was full of love for his precious husband and he leaned forward to kiss Laurent's forehead and ease some of the furrowed lines there.

“It's nothing so serious, I assure you. I just-,” Damen sighed and his hands slid to Laurent's neck where his fingers traced the jut of his collarbone and the mound of his Adam's apple which bobbed at the touch. “I had a thought – an idea for what I'd like to do tonight. It's – I have … I've been thinking of it for quite some time actually.”

There was tension in Laurent then, a tightness in his jaw that Damen could feel beneath his fingers. Damen was never one for asking anything of Laurent when it came to their love making, and no matter how safe he felt beneath Damen's touch – how much trust he had in this man, he couldn't help but think of any number of unfavourable things that could be asked of him. “Out with it.” He prompted.

Damen let his chest fill with a deep, shaking breath and made sure that Laurent's eyes were firmly on his. He knew him so well that his uncertainty at breaking routine was almost palpable and Damen wanted Laurent to know that he would never take what wasn't willingly and hopefully, enthusiastically given. One of Damen's hands found Laurent's cheek again, heat seeping into his palm whilst the fingers of his other hand toyed with the short golden hair at the nape of Laurent's neck. He leaned in, a whisper passing through the tiny space between their lips.

“I want you to _take_ me.”

Damen could have conjured up any number of reactions to his words. Shock. Confusion, maybe. Arousal, he had hoped. But laughter had never crossed his mind once. It bubbled out of Laurent's lips, a high pitched giggle that grew until his shoulders shook with it. Damen's eyebrows furrowed at the sound but he stayed silent until Laurent finally noticed his reaction was not in kind.

“You're serious,” Laurent said then, his smile dissipating in an instant like it had never been there at all.

“Yes, of course. Why would I ask such a thing in jest?” Damen asked, and it was laced with confusion as Laurent's frowned, his eyes narrowed as though they searched for something; something unseen.

“Why would you want that?”

“We spoke of it once. You remember the inn, do you not?” Damen's expression surely mirrored Laurent's. He cupped Laurent's cheeks once again, made sure to always keep their eyes locked, for it was the most honest part of them both.

“I remember the inn,” said Laurent, just louder than a whisper. “But it was a few words passed between us as you took me in hand, not exactly a conversation. And that is not an answer to my question.”

Damen couldn't help but laugh, but it was more in disbelief than humour. “Because it is a foolish question. Why do I want it? Because you are my husband; because I love you; because I want very much for you to make love to me. To take pleasure in me.”

“Then you do this for me? You think that _I_ want this?” Laurent prodded. His hands had finally unfurled from Damen's hips where they'd been tangled in the cloth there, and he crossed his arms across his chest. A sign of uncertainty, of preparing his walls to be built up at a moments notice.

“Laurent, please, if you don't want to do this, then we won't. Never think that I will ever force you.” Damen kissed the pout of Laurent's lips and was pleased that it seemed to ease him slightly, enough to smooth his forehead and loosen his shoulders. “But if it somehow makes you feel better to know it, I'll assure you that this idea of mine is entirely selfish. I desire it wholly, and not because I think it would please you … Though I hope beyond hope that it will.”

“Between the both of us – no matter how you look at it – you are not the one built to spread your thighs and play the woman. I don't understand you.”

“What? What _woman_? Laurent-” Damen took Laurent's hands, unloosening them from the shield he had made across his chest. Damen pressed a kiss to one of Laurent's palms and then clasped it to his chest. “We are not here to play a part. You are man, as I am a man. And not just _men_ ; kings, both of us. Equal in all things. That won't change, especially if the accounting factors are based on how we may give or take our pleasure.” He smiled as the colour rose began to paint Laurent's cheeks once again.

“There are a lot of things – a lot of _firsts_ that I wish I could have shared with you, Laurent,” Damen said, kissing Laurent's hand again, and then the other, before pressing his lips to Laurent's temple; his cheek; the line of his jaw. Laurent simply rolled his eyes and held tight to a shuddering breath. “But _this –_ I still have this one to give you, and it is nothing I have ever wanted with anyone before you. I've never even relished the idea of it until you – the wonderful you who's consumed my every thought, came along.”

“You have pretty words to say. Ever consider composing a few songs?” Laurent huffed, but it was overwhelmed by a gasp as Damen sucked at the soft skin beneath his ear.

“I know you love it. And every word is true. I want this – I want _you,_ so much. And, remember that you just have to say no and I'll never speak of it again but-” Damen had trailed his lips all the way towards Laurent's. They hovered there, just barely touching and sharing staggered breaths. Laurent's hands had found purchase on Damen's shoulders and Damen had wound his arms snugly around Laurent's middle. “ _Please, say yes._ ”

Laurent's eyes darted between Damen's gaze and his slightly parted lips; shuffled between the two for a few choking moments until he swallowed thickly and in his next breath whispered a ruined sounding “ _Yes._ ”

His agreement was met with a kiss; one that stumbled him backwards with the power behind it, with the bruising force of Damen's lips. Laurent cradled his face in his hands, and thought at first to push Damen back, to tease him for his eagerness – until Damen near growled his name and tugged Laurent's lips between his teeth, and he was lost. He pulled at the curls atop Damen's head instead, and welcomed his lover's fervour.

Damen broke away, only once his lungs protested and begged for respite. He clutched at Laurent's hands, tangled their fingers together, and began stepping backwards towards their bed.

“Are you going to stare at me all night or are you going to undress?” Laurent asked, once Damen had led them across the room to the foot of their bed, a smirk pulling at his reddened lips in faux confidence. Damen could hear the quake in Laurent's voice, could see the flush that darkened the skin of his face, and his chest. Damen could do little but smile, wholly endeared, as he reached for the golden clasp at his shoulder. His cloak fell heavily at his feet first, followed by the thin cloth of his chiton that pooled around him in one swoop of fabric. Damen kicked them away, unneeded.

Laurent licked his lips, eyes dark as they raked over the newly revealed expanse of Damen's chest, the line of his hips that led to muscled thighs. His eyes lingered there between Damen's legs, cock half-hard amongst a smattering of dark hair. It thickened noticeably under Laurent's gaze, and he tore his eyes away with a clearing of his throat.

“Well? Attend me.” Laurent clicked his tongue as the words passed his lips, and pointedly ignored the heat from Damen's stare, the smirk that adorned his mouth.

“Of course.” Damen stepped towards him, fingertips trailing from the back of Laurent's hand upwards, slowly, so slowly. Raising goose-flesh in their wake until he reached the strap of Laurent's own chiton, sitting at his shoulder. “My dear king.”

Damen's lips danced across Laurent's skin. Pathed across his neckline, and the line of his jaw as he pushed the fabric from Laurent's shoulder, let it flutter to a heap on the floor. Laurent gasped, a sound which he buried into Damen's skin with a bite, vicious, to his collarbone. Damen's hands wandered to the small of Laurent's back. His nails ran lightly across the skin and Laurent groaned at the sensation, his hips unconsciously jolting forwards. Damen thrust forward in kind, teasingly, and with playful arousal singing in his veins.

Laurent levelled him with a glare, one that narrowed at the smile Damen was biting down. “Enough.” Laurent said, voice reaching deep as he planted his palms on Damen's chest and pushed him to the bed. It took no strength – Damen let himself fall willingly, excitedly.

Damen pulled himself upwards until his head fell amongst the pillows. His heart rattling inside his chest as he settled there, on his back and spread his thighs for his husband; a shudder of deeply rooted _want_ washing over his skin, leaving him hot and itching for touch.

But touch never came, not for many aching moments where Laurent seemed somehow stricken at the sight of Damen; the puzzle that he was, laying there so open for him. He stood rigid at the foot of their bed, fingers twisting into the section of the bedding he could reach. Damen knew the look in Laurent's eyes, filled with determination, with _concentration_ , as it was. He could practically feel the intensity of it, darting over his skin and mapping out every inch of his body.

He knew very well that Laurent was planning; deciding his first move, and the next, and the many that would follow.

But Damen – he was near feverish with the thought of _any_ move, of any possible touch. A brush of fingers; a kiss; Laurent's weight pressing close and hot, giving and taking his pleasure. Laurent had come just a little closer, one knee lifted onto the bed, and Damen thought to entice him closer, a teasing grin adorning his lips. His palms slid down his stomach – muscles wound tight under his skin – and down further, until his fingertips were trailing feather-light along the length of his cock. Damen's back arched just from that simple caress.

“Haah~ And so? Are you going to stare at me all night?” Damen's words, pilfered from Laurent, were strained even as they lilted in amusement. It had the desired effect surely, as Laurent flushed with colour and seemed to awaken with a deep breath that inflated his lungs. He tried to look unimpressed as his eyes found Damen's, but his gaze was filled with fire and his cock had thickened, curved against his stomach, betraying him.

“Impatience will do you no good,” Laurent said, calmly, though his voice held the slightest tremble. He finally moved, crawling up towards Damen slowly until he was seated between his strong thighs, hands pressed to the bedclothes at Damen's hips. “I could tease you for hours.”

“But you won't,” Damen replied confidently, raising a hand to Laurent's jawline to skate over the skin with a caress that was rewarded with a sigh. They were as wound up as each other, anxious and needy. Damen thumbed at Laurent's bottom lip, pressed against it to distort the shape and then Laurent was sucking it into his mouth, nipping at it with his teeth. “Come here, Laurent. Kiss me.”

Laurent was a welcome weight atop Damen as he slid forward, falling to his elbows and pressing his chest tight against Damen's. His hips slotted into place between Damen's thighs and Laurent was held there with Damen's feet behind his knees. Their heartbeats thundered together at the contact, at these switched positions between them.

They had tumbled on this bed countless times, and more than once had Laurent seated himself above Damen. Lowered himself onto Damen's length, moving up and down in some maddening rhythm. Or had straddled Damen's hips on those wonderful lazy mornings; roused cocks sliding deliciously and so slowly together in simulated fuck, until they were left weak-limbed, and spent across their skin.

But nothing quite compared to this. This … nervous energy that filtered between them, that vibrated over their skin. Damen was aware of every inch of his body, anchored beneath Laurent's in a way that made him feel vulnerable in the most enticing way. His mind was flooded with images of Laurent opening him up with fingers and oil; pressing into his body; filling him with his cock. _Taking_ him. Slowly if he wished, or savagely – a thought he unabashedly favoured, for he ached to have Laurent break him apart. His fingers rough and bruising on his thighs, teeth at his neck and his shoulders.

Wanted it desperately suddenly – to be filled, to be _used_ for Laurent's pleasure – that his cock hardened painfully against his thigh and he groaned with the building pressure of it.

Damen pulled Laurent down to capture his lips, his fingers thrusting into the locks of his hair as his tongue sought out the heat of Laurent's mouth. Sounds of pleasure, strained and heavy, were forced from their throats as they found temporary relief for the hunger that sat in the pit of their stomachs.

It became a game of fevered grinding and desperate, sloppy kisses. Until Damen gasped for air and Laurent led his attentions elsewhere. To mouthing at Damen's neck, to nipping at the bob of his Adam's apple and down, further down to his chest which bore the brunt of Laurent's teeth. Damen would feel the sting of them for days and he growled at the very notion, arching his back and pushing himself into Laurent.

“You seem on edge, lover,” said Laurent, sweeping warm against Damen's chest. His fingers circled over Damen's darkened nipples, pebbled and hard with arousal, teasing the swell of flesh with gentle pressure. “Never have I seen you quiver so very much.” It was said with an unmistakable note of concern. A question hidden within every word. _Do you still want this? Shall I stop?_

A fond smile stretched Damen's lips and he tamed it slightly, biting on his lower lip. He brushed a hand through Laurent's hair, sweeping a few sweat dampened strands from his forehead. He turned his head into the touch, kissing twice upon Damen's palm.

“It's strange. I feel small beneath you. Weak. As though I haven't eaten in days. But it's – I never thought – _I assumed_ that simply switching our roles would feel no different. Surely not like this.” Laurent was always better at piecing his words together, and getting his point across without confusion. Damen was grasping at his thoughts desperately, fumbling them into sentences. He could feel Laurent's lips twitching at his skin, a laugh threatening to tumble out. He smothered it quickly, pressed his parted lips to one of Damen's nipples and teased it until Damen was thrusting his hips upwards, seeking delicious friction.

“And how does this feel?” Laurent asked then, breathless.

“Burning. And empty.” Damen's throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers scrambling at Laurent's shoulders, caught between wanting to nudge his lips back to his chest, and pulling them up so that he could devour them. “Haa~ I don't even know how it feels to be filled, I just – I feel as though my body is aching. I have never begged for a thing in my life-” A laugh, cracked, and rumbling forced itself from Damen's throat. He lay the back of his hand over his eyes and could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks. “-but I am moments from begging you to fuck me, Laurent.”

Damen heard Laurent's gasp of breath, felt it against his chest that was left so raw and sensitive after Laurent's attentions, that even the air settling around his nipples was too much. It took a moment – a moment suspended in some tense silence – before Laurent was moving Damen's shielding hand from his face, pinning it to the pillows above his head. Laurent's eyes were wide when Damen caught them, shocked, perhaps a little amused, and _loving,_ above all else. “You never have to beg for me, Damen.” He smiled, a tentative curving of his mouth and leaned in closer. “I'll take care of you.”

Laurent pressed his lips against Damen's, and it was nothing but a gentle sponging of soft kisses, until Damen had his hands sliding down the jut of Laurent's shoulder blades. The thin line of his spine, curving into Damen's touch and the caress elicited a moan, drawn-out and breathy, from Laurent.

Their touches became hurried; passionate and _seeking_. Wanting to lay hands, fingers, mouths, and tongues on every inch of skin they could. They came together, once, after Laurent had pulled Damen into a seated position and he had straddled his husband's lap. Their cocks slicked between them, Damen's hands rough and bruising on the flesh of Laurent's ass, guiding the furious thrusting of his hips. Laurent's fingers had tugged at the curls atop Damen's head, had scratched at the nape of his neck, as he panted a desperate, pleading mantra of Damen's name, before he arched and spilled across Damen's stomach and chest. Damen followed soon after, jerking against the heat of Laurent's body, his teeth, harsh, at the blond's pale shoulder.

It sated them – for a time.

Laurent recovered first – from their sprawl of tired limbs across mussed sheets – even as Damen still lay there with his eyes closed. He turned onto his side, tangling a leg in between Damen's and resting a hand just above his navel, feeling the rise and fall of his breath underneath the touch. He kissed Damen's shoulder, once. Then twice more. Slid his lips to the soft patch of skin behind Damen's ear, before nipping at his earlobe, which drew a pleased sigh in response. Laurent kept his lips moving, dragging more pretty noises from Damen's mouth.

Finally, when Damen opened his eyes and happily offered his mouth for Laurent to take, Laurent let his hand trail down from his stomach. Down through the rough line of dark hair that led him to Damen's length – only slightly softened even after his recent climax. Laurent thumbed at the swollen head, smearing a bead of essence that had drooled from the slit. Damen winced at the sensitive bite that Laurent's touch held, the flat of his thumb that followed the most prominent vein down along the side of his cock. Laurent huffed a laugh against his cheek.

The touch continued slowly, lightly, like a whisper across the skin. Damen soaked in the attention, wound tight like a bowstring, anticipating what was still to come. His eyes followed the delicate tip-toe of Laurent's fingers, swallowing harshly as Laurent peppered his cheeks, his jaw, and the very corner of his mouth with kisses and tiny kitten licks. Laurent's fingertips brushed the fine thatch of hair as they slid further, over the soft swell of Damen's sac, there at the base of his cock. He fingered the sensitive stretch of skin just below that, grazing a nail over it and Damen's hips jolted as though struck. It surprised them both and, after a beat, they shared a laugh – a tiny, breathless thing. Laughed at this ridiculous tension between them, the nervous electricity.

Laurent struggled to swallow, his mouth dry as he curled a leg over one of Damen's and eased apart his thighs. Damen's breath was a racing thrum, shuddering and fast, and Laurent's was no better. His heart rabbited against where it was pressed to Damen's upper arm.

One finger finally found that hidden place between Damen's legs. The secret stretch of sweat-dampened skin, puckered and twitching against its first touch. “ _Damen.”_ Laurent whimpered into Damen's neck, his cock bobbing appreciatively next to Damen's hip. His finger trembled round the tiny hole, applied gentle pressure just to test the resistance of the ring of delicate muscle.

Damen turned his head to see the red tip of Laurent's ear, the heated blush of his face and his neck. Fondness swelled suddenly, alongside his arousal, which bloomed within him and reached out to touch his every nerve, alighting them once again with fire and with fierce need. He pressed his lips to Laurent's forehead before casting his hand out to his side, blindly, until he felt cool glass beneath his fingertips.

“Here. You'll need this,” Damen murmured, voice low and ragged. Laurent lifted his head, looking wholly and surprisingly wrecked. His hair was in disarray, skin blotchy with heat, and sweat and his eyes – his eyes were unfocused and black, barely any of his crystal blue irises visible. He lifted his hand from between Damen's heat and took the vial – filled with a fragrant oil – eyeing it with brief confusion before nodding and beginning to scramble from his perch at Damen's side, to the space made for him between his legs.

“I can do it instead. If you'd prefer.” Damen paid little attention to how readily he spread his legs wide, feet planting themselves on the soft bedding beneath them.

“If I am to fuck you, then I'm going to fuck you properly. Preparations included.” Laurent's eyebrow arched, waiting for an objection. He smoothed his hands down Damen's thighs, feeling the muscles jump under his touch.

Damen snorted, a smirk on his lips. “Very well, then.” His own hands were itching to reach out and take himself in hand, his cock rigid against his hip, enticing.

Laurent was patient – _or was it hesitant?_ – as he slid his hands into the dip at the top of Damen's thighs. His brows pulled together; his lips, kiss-reddened, were licked with a peak of his tongue. Laurent parted his cheeks with both thumbs, his throat jumping visibly at what he found there. The tiny bud of Damen's hole; untouched skin the shade of an over-sunned plum. Laurent pressed the tip of his finger against it, curious, and it clenched at the delicate prodding and the promise of intrusion.

A sharp intake of breath drew Laurent's attention upwards. Damen had pulled himself onto his elbows, gaze completely focused and burning on Laurent; a look of pure lust and hunger. A look that Laurent recognized from the many times that Damen had pushed up against him, had scarcely managed to pull Laurent free from his breeches with fumbling hands, and hike up his chiton, just to rut their cocks together quickly and without finesse. _Desperately._

“Are you to watch my every move, then?” Laurent asked, and simply because he could, he fingered Damen's entrance and dared to push the tip past the resistance there. He marvelled at Damen's reaction – the jolt of his stomach, and the clench of his teeth as his eyes fluttered shut.

When they opened next, Damen was panting. A smile, broad and toothy directed at Laurent. “ _Yes._ ”

Laurent should have known of course, that Damen would never look away. Would pin his gaze onto his precious husband as he was worked open for the first time. Would _relish_ in watching Laurent react to his virgin hole loosening for his fingers, stretching for his cock. Laurent didn't think he could stand it, not this first time when he was already shivering with nerves at simply making it good, and pleasurable, and everything Damen could have possibly wanted from this. Damen would have him spilling across the sheets before he could even press inside his slick warmth.

“Turn over,” said Laurent, thickly. He leaned back, expected a question or perhaps even a protest. He was surprised by the look that crossed Damen's face, instead. The smile that grew into something lascivious. Damen seemed more that happy to obey, manoeuvring himself slowly over onto his stomach. He flattened himself to the bed, just a slight cant to his hips that formed his body into a tempting curve. Presenting his ass to Laurent's gaze and his touch, like it wasn't something new, and slightly terrifying.

The expanse of Damen's back – scarred as it was – drew Laurent's attentions immediately. It always did. Always made his throat close and his heart clench like it was pierced, and raw, and bleeding. It caught him by surprise sometimes, like when he lazed on their bed and Damen had traipsed across the room to pour himself a goblet, or to splash his face in the basin in the corner. When Damen left the warmth of their covers with a smile, gloriously naked, and Laurent caught sight of his back and realized with a start, that he had _forgotten._ That he had actually forgotten that Damen's body was left marred and ruined by his own hand. That he had torn shreds from his skin and had once relished in the sight of him, bloodied and broken. Laurent had never felt as disgusted as he had that morning, when memories of Damen fixed to a post filtered through his mind, vivid and horrific.

He had raced from the bed and vomited into the chamber pot moments later, his stomach clenching around the tangible ache of _hatred_ that he had felt for himself, as Damen kneeled beside him on the cold ground, utterly worried, hand shaking where it rubbed at the base of his spine. Laurent had hated himself even more when Damen later cradled him on the bed, against his chest. “ _Don't scare me like that,”_ Damen had whispered into his hair, and Laurent was glad he had nothing left to empty from his stomach.

It was worse, months later, when Laurent had awoken behind Damen, his face unwittingly pressed into the warm skin. He had backed away so quickly – like a mouse, scampering from a hunting cat – kicked himself from the bed until he found himself curled naked against the far wall, hand scratching lines in his chest as he clawed at the painful thump of his heartbeat.

Damen had startled awake from his flailing, head whipping towards Laurent's shivering figure with sheer terror in his eyes. Laurent had kicked at him when he tried to sit by his side, arms beating at his hands when they tried to settle him. It was worse that day because it was the day Laurent shattered. He wept – _sobbed_ as the memories attacked him, of blood, and of mauled skin, and of cruel satisfaction. The tears streaked across his skin, and the screams tore at his throat until he was sure his mouth was filled with metal.

He could hear Damen distantly, trying to soothe him, then growing frustrated, until there was a touch of anger lacing his voice. He called his name – _growled_ it between clenched teeth. Laurent knew he felt the grip of Damen's hands on his shoulders in between his cries of _“I'm sorry, Damen. I'm sorry.”_ Damen had shaken him, roughly, so very roughly. Laurent's teeth had rattled, his head grazing painfully against the wall.

Laurent still cried, still hiccuped with rough, scratching breaths. But he was calm enough to at least explain – until the words left his mouth and he wanted nothing more then to run, and scream like the coward inside him that fuelled his disgust. He remembers the muscles in Damen's jaw jumping, the eyes that were furious, and focused on anything but Laurent until finally, after what felt like an age, Damen caught him by the shoulders again and shook him once. Forced him to pay attention.

“ _Laurent. I can't ask you to forget the past, but we are_ not _who we once were. We cannot erase the things we have done”_ His hands had tightened; had left bruises on Laurent's shoulders that lasted for days. _“What's done is done and I need you to understand that. If you tear yourself apart over this again – I – I won't forgive you for that. I won't.”_ Damen had trailed off, no longer angry but almost _pleading._

“Laurent.” Laurent's eyes snapped open, finding Damen, half on his side with worry creasing his brow. He had his hand resting over Laurent's, whose his nails were biting into the rumpled sheets. He forced himself to relax, to find that easy fluid comfort that flooded his bones and his veins whenever he was with Damen. He smiled, gently, hoping it didn't look too pained, or too broken.

He leaned over Damen and kissed him – _I'm not okay –_ deepened it slowly, allowing Damen's tongue to spill into the warmth of his mouth – _but I'm trying –_ and stayed there, tucked into his lover's side until they were both humming into it. When Laurent pulled back he smiled again, and it felt easy this time, small, but genuine – _I'll get better._

“I believe I told _you_ to turn over.” He swatted at Damen's ass once, playfully. Damen grinned. His expression void of any sadness, any worry that might have dampened it earlier. He flattened himself to the bed again, arched beautifully. Laurent took a breath; let it fill his chest; let it soothe him, before he leaned in to kiss the largest scar that ran across Damen's left shoulder blade, which sat ashy and foreign against his sun-darkened flesh. He could feel the roughened skin beneath his lips, and the way Damen shuddered under him, but he left it at that. He would not shed another tear for these wounds.

Laurent was careful with Damen's body. Was gentle, as his hands pressed to his soft buttocks, and pulled them apart to reveal the small pucker of tense muscle. His pace was infinitely slow as he soaked that hidden skin with too much oil, that drooled over Damen's cleft, and onto his thighs, and onto the bed. It was maddening. Every touch was good – so, _so_ good, but each simply left Damen wanting more.

Damen wanted fingers pushing into him, nails biting into his ass. Wanted Laurent's body blanketing over his back and whispering his filthiest words into his ear. Wanted so fiercely for Laurent to be inside him, to be fucking him into the sheets and taking his pleasure.

“Laurent, do not tease me now. Push your fingers inside.” Damen all but growled, impatient, mouth buried in the pillows and his hips hitching up higher, seeking out the gentle pleasure of Laurent's fingers.

“I am _not_ teasing. I said I would do this properly.” Laurent huffed, but it was taut and Damen knew very well that it was from arousal. He was holding himself back, but hid it poorly. Damen could feel his cock up along the back of his thigh, hot and rigid, and needing release. Laurent's middle and index finger continued circling Damen's hole, spreading the slick of the oil with barely there pressure. Measured. Unhurried.

“And you can do it properly whilst hastening the pace. I have prepared your body for mine many times, and it _can_ be done quickly.” Damen turned his head and looked at Laurent from over his shoulder. He was utterly focused on the slow movement of his fingers on Damen, and resolutely ignored the knowing smirk his husband was surely casting his way.

“I don't want to hurt you.”

“You won't.” And Damen believed it wholly. Believed that Laurent could take his willing body as he had taken Damen's heart, and treat it just as tenderly. Laurent's eyes finally came to settle on Damen's. Held them, even as he could feel his face flushing deep crimson. “You want to fuck me, perhaps just as desperately as I want you inside. But you're holding back.” Laurent's lips pursed, not denying the claim for it was _so_ very true. “I could flip us over, and slide myself down on top of you.”

Laurent's breath audibly hitched, his free hand taking a bruising grip on Damen's side. “You – You struggle to temper your dominance, husband. Even now, bent over and on show for me.”

Damen smiled indulgently and finally turned back to press the side of his face down into the pillows. “No. I'm afraid I am unfamiliar with the art of submission.” Damen said, teasing. And then, more seriously, with heat in his words. “ _Show me._ ”

Any hopes of argument, of teasing, of retorting – anything – from Laurent, died as Damen arched himself impossibly further, on filthy, gorgeous display. _Don't hold back. How ridiculous,_ Laurent thought to himself. Damen made it sound so easy, always made things sound _so_ easy. But it was terrifying. Letting go. Letting instinct, and need, and their unerring lust take over. Terrifying, and so incredibly tempting.

Laurent held his breath, chest tight with tension as he finally, _finally,_ pushed one slicked finger past the resistance of Damen's entrance, into the tight heat of his body that welcomed him. He marvelled in the sight of his finger disappearing, right down to the second knuckle before he twisted and slowly drew it back out. A simple game of back and forth, of give and take, and it was hypnotising.

At first, Damen gave little reaction. An unheard gasp of breath; a shudder. His hole fluttered around the single digit that intruded into his body, but otherwise he was still, and quiet. Savouring the feel of something inside of him and knowing that this was nothing but the beginning.

Once satisfied with how easily Damen swallowed up one of his fingers, Laurent teased a second. He pulled the first out completely, only to return with two. He prodded both inside, easing them down to the first knuckle. Laurent froze as the sound of Damen's hushed Akielon curses, and pulled back immediately.

“No. Gods no, don't stop.” Damen reached for Laurent's hand that had come to rest at his hip. His eyes had fallen shut, lip bitten between his teeth. Laurent hesitated for a moment, kept watching Damen's blissful expression and then, gently, pushed his two oiled digits back inside. In deep, husky Akielon, Damen hissed his approval, “ _Yes.”_

Laurent fell into a smooth, steady rhythm. Thrusting his fingers, straight down to last knuckle, and then pulling them out just enough to scissor Damen wider. He took it beautifully, relaxing into Laurent's concentrated attentions, slowly grinding his cock into the bed below to tease himself with pleasure. Laurent was soon working a third finger inside, alongside the first two, whimpering at the feeling of his lover's body clamping down on his hand, and pulling him in.

Rumbling groans from Damen's lips were absorbed by the pillows, as were a slue of quiet mumbled praises of _“Good Laurent, feels so good.”_ But his skin still itched, vibrating with anticipation, and the thrum of his arousal was heavy, and painful, and un-sated. His fingers sunk deep into the bedclothes by his head, and the words were there, lodging themselves in his throat. The begging, the whines, the _please, fuck me, please, please._ He reeled them in as best he could, but they pushed and pushed as Laurent's fingers continued their blissful torture.

“It's enough.” Damen said, teeth clenched. “I'm ready. Do it.”

“You are still – still so tight.” Laurent replied, a moment later. He sounded breathless. He _needed_ just as badly, as _viciously._

“Laurent.” _Please, please, please._

Laurent's fingers eased up on their assault, twisting half way out of Damen's hole. He paused, and though Damen couldn't see it, he could practically feel the burn of Laurent's eyes raking over his skin. Sizing up his position, bowed as he was and shivering, still grinding his cock to seek out some kind of release. If, in that moment, Damen was capable of clear thought, he may have felt a spike of worry piercing through him. Worry that Laurent would find this Damen, this … wanton, submissive and weak-limbed Damen unsatisfying. Unappealing. _Repulsive._

But then, Laurent was pulling his fingers free, giving Damen a second where he felt horribly empty and unsatisfied, before he was positioning himself over Damen. He straddled the back of his thighs and slicked his cock – drooling steadily with pre-come – with whatever remained of the slick, fragranced oil. Laurent ground his dick in between Damen's buttocks and felt his heart painfully pounding at his ribs, reminding him that this was it, this was _real_. Damen, his enticing husband, laid out beneath him, open and waiting for him to push inside. _Wanting_ him to push inside.

And when he did, finally, he couldn't breath. He held onto Damen's hips and watched, stricken, as his body welcomed him in, enveloped him in oil drenched, tight heat. It felt like an impossibility. Like a fantasy conjured from his own desire. It couldn't feel like this; this good; this … perfect. And yet, here he was, slotting inside of Damen's body like it was made just for him, and Laurent – he could have cried out, overwhelming as it was. But making a sound seemed like it would fracture this, would put an end to a sensation that made his skin tight and hot, and liquefied his bones into fluid pleasure. So Laurent's mouth simply hung open as he moved deeper, his cock disappearing into the soft of Damen's entrance.

Damen, however, couldn't help but make a sound. Wouldn't have reigned them in even if he had the power to. His lips fell open first around a moan, long and drawn-out, as he felt the raw, dull ache of Laurent's length breaching him. And as he plunged deeper, a fractured sound that should have been Laurent's name, but was little more than a desperate, tangled plea. As Laurent filled him slowly, he could feel each torturous inch of his cock inside him, hot – so _burning_ hot, and solid.

It _hurt_ , being filled for the first time, like he was being pierced or torn, and Laurent felt too big – big enough to break him if he tried. But Damen welcomed the throbbing pain. He felt his cock dripping at the uncomfortable heat that flooded his veins, because this was _Laurent,_ seating himself inside his body like he was an extension of Damen. And it was the kind of pain that made him feel helpless and weak in the most glorious of ways. Damen craved more, knowing it would soon morph into some unknown pleasure that could drive him to madness.

He had seen it in others, had seen it in Laurent himself, that kind of pleasure that made one incapable of anything but garbled moans and pitched whines, unfocused on everything but the promise of that oncoming climax. Damen was awash with anticipation, his hips slipping into their own rhythm of a slow grind back onto Laurent, until he could feel the blond's hips flush against his backside, cock fully sheathed in heat.

Laurent allowed a tiny, breathless whimper to pass his lips. Struck by the pressure that surrounded his arousal, the spike of intense pleasure that snaked its way into his veins and along his spine, Laurent scarcely avoided toppling forward. He braced his weight on his palms, pinned tight to the expanse of Damen's back. He could feel the rough of Damen's scars, the ripple and jump of his muscles under the skin, but he couldn't in that moment muster the energy nor the willingness to move. He needed to breathe, needed to gather himself and dampen the urge his body had to spill his seed right then into this newfound warmth.

“Laurent, _”_ Damen prompted, his voice merely a cracked ruin of its former self. “ _Laurent._ ”

“Yes?” Laurent struggled with that single word, forcing it through his teeth.

Damen whispered his name once again, letting the sound settle over his tongue. His head felt heavy, fogged with arousal, and Laurent was the one thing that seemed to make sense. He could feel him everywhere; his weight pressing him down into the bed, his cock seated inside, the fullness that sat at the pit of his stomach. He felt the ridiculous urge to laugh then, lost in his delirium. “You … are _inside_ me.” He grinned, and tensed experimentally, relishing in how he could tighten around Laurent and hear his high-pitched gasp in response. Laurent's fingertips were sharp at his back.

“Haa~ I'm glad you noticed.” Laurent wheezed, fighting for any mere semblance of control over this situation, though he felt very close to weeping. Damen chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and Laurent could feel it there, under his hands. He strained open his eyes and saw the toothy grin plastered across Damen's mouth. It dissipated a moment later, when Laurent accidentally moved his hips just a fraction, a tiny movement that was just enough to tease a wave of pleasure through them both.

Damen reached a hand back behind him, blindly grappling at the flesh of one Laurent's thighs that bracketed his own. “You need to move.” Damen said, all at once serious and desperate. His cock was trapped beneath his weight, lodged against the bedclothes and it ached for friction, touch, _release._ There was no desire now for slow, gentle lovemaking, not when the tension between them was cresting, turning into something tangible that needed to be quickly unravelled and satisfied.

Laurent's breath was just a series of stunted pants. “I can't.” His jaw clenched, tense with frustration. “This will end soon after it begins.” Even now he felt himself teetering on an edge. Laurent knew that it would take minimal coaxing, a stroke, a thrust and he would certainly come. He flushed, felt the heat spreading to his chest, as he realised that _this_ was all he could offer Damen.

“I don't care. Laurent, I don't care.” Damen's fingers were insistent at Laurent's thigh. He strained to turn his head, to see what kind of expression his husband wore upon his face, and found him with his eyes tightly shut, brows furrowed, and lower lip bitten between his teeth. “Do it. Fuck me properly, just as you said. _”_

When Laurent opened his eyes, it was to find Damen watching him, eyes intense and black, shrouded in heated lust. Lost in it. _Helpless_ to it. Damen heaved backwards, as much as he could, with a moan that was melded with layers of frustration – his sheer strength lifting Laurent slightly with every desperate push and circle of his hips. Laurent arced, a shout spilling from his mouth, and he grappled for purchase on Damen's back. Tried to anchor himself somehow, but Damen wouldn't stop. He would steal his own pleasure by rutting onto Laurent's cock if his lover insisted on being his uncooperative self, muffling his curses and babbled nonsense into the pillows beneath his head.

After that, it was as if Laurent had lost control of his own body. His hips began to fall into an uneven rhythm, enticed by Damen's prompting. He could hear Damen chanting his name, strangled in between a mix of Akielon and Veretian cursing, but it sounded distant and distorted against the sound of his heartbeat drumming in his ears. Laurent watched his cock, pink and pale compared to Damen's rich skin, sliding half way out of that slick warmth before his hips snapped forward, driving himself down to the hilt in one push. He could feel the sting that lit his skin as he slapped against the flesh of Damen's ass again, and again, and _again._

It became a vicious back and forth of thrusting and grinding into one another. Animal and raw, it was punctuated by a chorus of ragged, torn grunts and moans, and more than a few desperate whimpers. Damen could no longer feel even a remnant of the dull pain that struck through him when Laurent had first mounted. It was nothing but pleasure, heaped onto pleasure, that simply climbed higher as Laurent fucked into him without abandon, crying out for him with every down stroke of his cock inside.

Damen could feel his arousal building, could feel it bubbling in his veins, waiting to burst. His cock rubbed into the bedding with every move of his hips, his sac swollen with seed, and he needed just a little – _just a little more._ He reached his hands back to land on the soft of Laurent's thighs that held him gloriously captive and he tried with what little strength he had left to guide the blond's hips faster, _deeper,_ with every thrust. Laurent brushed against a spot inside of him, just once, and Damen

 _howled_ , his body seizing into a tight bundle of tension for the slightest of moments, before he was coming. It felt like it would never end, as his body jolted and shuddered of its own volition, his spendings soaking into the sheets as his eyes glazed over, tumbling down into white lit oblivion.

Laurent's fingertips sunk into Damen's hips as he ground to an abrupt halt, his mouth frozen around a groan that sat stilted in his throat. Damen was tightening around him, near painfully, and sucking him in and holding him there. Laurent couldn't see Damen's face, only the mess of curls atop his head, sticking out at odd angles from how Damen had twisted it in his fingers, and the line of his neck, sweat-soaked, with his pulse alive and excited under the skin. Laurent forced himself to breathe and attempted to push coherent words from his lips. “You … did – did you?” It was a croak of a sound.

A slight inclination of the head and a muffled affirmation was the extent of Damen's response. Laurent exhaled in a shudder and started to slide his cock from the burn of Damen's body, ready to take himself in hand and coax himself to climax. Damen had reached behind to grab his hand before he had moved too far.

“Don't. Keep going … until you come. Keep going.” Damen's eyes drooped, ripples of the ultimate pleasure still striking his body. But the grip he had on Laurent's hand was strong and firm as he tugged him forward, forced him to blanket his weight across Damen's back and brace his palms flat on either side of Damen's head. He circled Laurent's wrist with his fingers and turned his cheek to the pillow so that he could mouth lazily at the pulse point that throbbed a beat within that pale wrist. Laurent was wound too tight to deny the invitation.

Laurent kept a slower pace now, thrusting just as deep, still snapping forward hard enough to hear the sound of their flesh slap together, but yes … _slower_. Slow enough to feel the muscles inside, tightening around his intrusion. Slow enough to savour it, even as restless as he was, as unbearably close to finishing as he was. Laurent lowered his forehead to the nape of Damen's neck. Kissed the skin there once for every slide into Damen's hole. He buried the desperate, needy whines that escaped him into each kiss.

Damen still held his wrist, still had his lips dragging across the sensitive skin there, lost in some post climactic haze. He began hitching his hips back into Laurent, embracing the little pulses of dampened pleasure. They were almost too much for his tired body. _Almost._ He managed little more than a whisper when he asked Laurent to talk to him, to tell him how it felt.

“Good … it's – it's so – _you …_ feel so good.” Laurent replied, another whisper, frayed at the edges breathed against the curve of Damen's neck. He could feel the simpering beginnings of his climax settling over him, a shudder rattling up his spine, making him curve over Damen's back. His hips were stuttering, unable to keep moving to a steady beat. He could feel Damen scratching along his forearm, tingling sensation shooting up from a tiny, intimate touch.

Laurent buried himself fully, ground his hips in harsh writhing circles, as if he could somehow reach deeper. Laurent fell to his elbows, touching every bit of Damen that he could, skin sticky, and far too hot. He panted erratically, delirious with the need to come. A wholly fractured plea of, “ _Damianos”_ was all he could manage, and Damen shushed him sweetly, tiredly, his lips still touching his wrist. Laurent couldn't hold on. He felt the first blinding jerk of his orgasm splintering him apart with snaking, deadly pleasure and Damen's airy, blissed out voice telling him to come.

He did as he was bid, surrendering himself with a wet sob of a sound and emptied his seed deep inside Damen's body, marking him with a series of disorientating pulses that went on, and on, and on.

Laurent lay exhausted across the length of Damen's back, his cock beginning to soften in Damen's hole, feeling overly sensitive. Laurent focused on his heartbeat, thundering painfully against his ribs, tried to match it to Damen's pulse which had settled to a slightly steadier pace. He felt weak, and wonderfully sated, lacking in any motivation to shift his position, though he knew it was certainly an uncomfortable weight on Damen.

“I'll move.” Laurent smoothed the words into Damen's shoulder. “Give me a moment and … and I'll move.” Damen merely slotted his fingers in between Laurent's, left hand palms held together in a loose grip. He kissed the back of Laurent's hand, tenderly, in reply.

Laurent eventually parted from Damen, slowly, and carefully, though the slide still drew a wince from them both. He was unsteady on his feet when he rose from the bed, telling Damen not to move before he managed to clean him up. Laurent stumbled his way to the corner to fetch a cloth and then slowly back to Damen's outstretched form, rumpled deep in dirty, tangled sheets. A glorious mess.

Laurent quietly wiped along Damen's body, sliding the dampened cloth up the back of his thighs, the mound of his buttocks and then, gingerly, in between. Damen's hole was winking around nothing, steadily leaking Laurent's essence that dribbled down between his legs and over the soft of his balls. There, on erotic display, it was difficult for Laurent to look away. He swallowed, his throat feeling raw, and cleaned away all evidence of his seed. Damen melted into the gentle touch with a pleased sigh.

“Turn over.” Laurent touched Damen's hip, moved back just a little to give him room to manoeuver. It was with numb, exhausted movements that Damen repositioned onto his back, but when he did he grinned. Delighting in the spent, heavy weight of his body, the throb of his ass that would surely ache tomorrow, and the tenderness of his back and shoulders where Laurent had pressed into his flesh. Laurent was shiny with sweat and completely dishevelled, skin splotched with pink and crimson, lips bitten red. Damen thought he looked beautifully ruined.

Damen reached a hand out, danced his fingertips up along Laurent's thigh until he could hold his hip and pull, bringing him forward and over him. Their lips met seconds later, a mere suggestion of a kiss, soft and tender. Neither of them turned it into anything more, they simply waded in the intimacy of the touch. Their legs tangled back together at some point, and their hands began to journey over skin. Damen traced over Laurent's back with his fingers, and Laurent danced along Damen's chest, his collar, and the line of his shoulder.

“Do you think … that you will rouse again?” Damen asked, when their lips had naturally parted and Laurent played absent mindedly with the curls of his hair. Damen's hands had fallen to the round of Laurent's ass and his pulled him in, tucking Laurent into his hip.

“Tonight? What – must you fuck me once before you can sleep?” came Laurent's blunt reply, but he was smiling. Damen huffed a laugh and shook his head. One of his hands however, still moved in between the cleft of Laurent's ass, circled his entrance with the tip of his index finger, more than a little tempted. Though, not as tempted as he usually was, not now. Not when he was set on another idea.

“Not quite.” Laurent's eyebrows dipped together and he tilted head a fraction. Damen's hands found the small of Laurent's back, enticing a shiver as he lightly dragged his nails across the skin. “I want you inside again. But after … when you spill, I want you to stay. Stay inside me so we may sleep just like that.”

Laurent gulped audibly, but he didn't look away, he kept his eyes locked on Damen's. There wasn't fire there, not any more. Damen wasn't looking for desperate release. For rough touches, for nails and teeth on skin. He wanted nothing but to feel. Feel full, and intimately connected and wanted to awake come morning to Laurent inside of him. A part of him.

“How filthy,” was Laurent's reply, but it was void of any malice. His smile had morphed into a smirk, teasing at the corner of his mouth. “Who would have guessed that you could become quite so needy? I take you once and already you're addicted to my cock.” He pressed a kiss to Damen's cheek, his index finger sliding along his strong jawline.

“Addicted. _Yes.”_ Damen agreed readily, biting his lip, hands never leaving his lover's skin. “I already miss being filled. Miss feeling helpless to it. _To you_. I may love it far too much.” Damen smiled, moving one palm up Laurent's spine and laying it on his shoulder blade, pressing him closer. Laurent had one of his cheeks in hand, fingertips tickling at the flesh, the shape of his nose and the curve beneath his eye. He laughed, his own cheeks still an enticing pink.

“Or you are simply lazy. You love that you can lay there with your legs spread wide whilst I do all of the work.”

“Ah~ Gods, yes.” Damen laughed, his head arching to reveal the bob of his Adam's apple. When he looked back at Laurent his eyes were bright, sparkling with love. “You've got me.”

“Yes. I do.” The words were a whisper, dripping in fondness as Laurent smiled and pressed a kiss to the bow of Damen's mouth. It was a slow slide of lips, soft and easy. Laurent reached behind to find one of Damen's hands still pressed to the bend of his lower back, and repositioned it around to his front. Brought it in between their bodies. “I'm sure that you can find a way to tempt me, husband.”

Damen let his smile grow, trapping his tongue in between his teeth and watching the challenge alight in Laurent's eyes. He let the back of his knuckles tickle down against Laurent's stomach, enjoying the jump of the muscles underneath. Laurent cradled his face in both hands, watching him intently as Damen's hand travelled further.

Their mouths met sweetly once again, unable to resist, and as Damen finally took Laurent loosely in hand, Laurent's hitch of a gasp was swallowed between Damen's lips.

**Author's Note:**

> and Damen never topped again ... 
> 
> ... nah I'm just fucking with ya lol 
> 
> I hope you all liked it, I'm genuinely quite proud of this one! I did all of this research into ancient wedding traditions (ancient Greece because honestly I always imagine Akielos as ancient Greece) and had a lot more of the actual wedding in this ... but that got cut out. There was also a blowjob that did indeed happen ... that was cut out. And then I dabbled with a rimming scene but I mean, clearly ... cut out! *Sigh, but this could have been like 20k words if I didn't chill sooooo this is what you get hehe :D 
> 
> Tumblr: [Sotakura](http://sotakura.tumblr.com/) (main) // [Cutie-Taekwoonie](http://cutie-taekwoonie.tumblr.com/) (kpop)  
> Twitter: [@and_in_blue](http://www.twitter.com/and_in_blue)
> 
> Good day! ^-^


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